


Just A Hobby

by mmmdraco



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Trucy away at college and Miles working late quite often, Phoenix is being a bum, so Miles makes him get a hobby: community theatre. Phoenix is amazingly good, and Miles realizes that this is something of which he got in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Hobby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prospectkiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prospectkiss/gifts).



> Written for the [Phoenix Wright Kink Meme](http://bludhavens.livejournal.com/88397.html?thread=40205901#t40205901).

When Miles came home for the third night in a row to find Phoenix sprawled on the couch in his boxers watching reality television, he snapped just a little. "I know that Trucy is off at college and you're lonely. So go out and find a hobby, you miserable lump!"

Phoenix, fortunately, had taken the missive as intended and had found pants and gone looking for something to occupy his evenings when he wasn't working on a case. It was a few days later that Miles managed to pin him down (in his boxers on the couch again, but due to Miles' influence this time) and ask about the hobby. Phoenix had laughed it off a little at first, but in the end he muttered out, "I ended up at the community theatre. They were doing auditions."

"And now you're doing lighting or some nonsense?" Miles trailed his fingers down the front of Phoenix's boxers and eased open the button on the placket so he could take Phoenix in hand.

"No," Phoenix gasped as he thrust himself into Miles' hand. "I got the lead."

Miles felt Phoenix continue to push through his fingers even as his grip went slack. "The lead?" He shook his head. "It must not be a very big theatre."

"It's the biggest in the area, I think." Phoenix shrugged and then wiggled his hips again. "Hey, uh, are we gonna do this or what?"

Miles sighed. "You take all of the mystery out of life sometimes." But he still tightened his hand.

* * *

Two weeks later, Miles found he was growing a little irritated with how little he was seeing Phoenix, but it couldn't be helped. With his own case load and Phoenix's little rehearsals, there were only one or two nights a week that they had any decent amount of time together and then a few stolen moments throughout the day when they had a chance to meet. It might have been a little easier if he could have driven Phoenix to his rehearsals, but their schedules just didn't mesh up very often. He didn't envy anyone who actually had to wait longer than a few days to see their lover, but he felt particularly angry about his own situation because Phoenix lived with him now and that was supposed to be some kind of guarantee. At least Phoenix chose to use the nights that Miles worked late to see his friends that Miles didn't care for much.

Still, tonight they had time together to relax. They'd eaten dinner already and Miles had just finished clearing away the dishes. He moved toward the couch, mind already wondering whether the cushions needed to be rotated to ensure that Phoenix didn't leave _lumps_ , and frowned to find the man sitting on the edge of the couch with his script curled open in his hand as he murmured words to himself. "The play?" Miles asked as he sat down.

Phoenix looked up, grinning. "Yeah. I'm trying to be off book by the next rehearsal so I can commit to the blocking a little better."

Miles raised an eyebrow and sat down. "I don't suppose I could be of any help?"

"Could you run lines with me?" Phoenix held out the script. "My lines are highlighted, so if you just give me the line before..."

Flipping toward the beginning of the script, a play titled something that Miles didn't recognize, he found Phoenix's first line and gave him his cue. "The life we live is a lie."

Phoenix's eyes suddenly showed a sadness that Miles felt bleed into his own feelings. "Aren't all lives? But we live."

Miles shook his head and looked back at the script. "Do we?"

"We must." Phoenix grabbed his hand and the sadness seemed to fade a little. "We don't have much more than this, but as long as this is _what_ we have..." He trailed off and a smile came to his face. "Let's make the most of this. No more lying. What we have is better than any lie, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Miles winced at his own words, out of place as they were, and looked down at the script to find what his actual line was supposed to have been. "And you think that other people can just overlook what we've said before?"

"I think that as long as I've got you, it doesn't matter." Phoenix stood up. "Come with me."

Miles tore his eyes from Phoenix to find the next line. "Where will we go?"

Phoenix pulled him up by his empty hand and held him close. "Anywhere."

With a frown, Miles looked back at the script and broke character. "Wait, is this a takeoff on Bonnie and Clyde?"

"Oh, you noticed?" Phoenix laughed, all of his pretenses suddenly dropped. "Only now it's about two guys."

Miles found himself suddenly jealous and he felt his fingers rolling around the script. "And you're 'Clyde'."

Phoenix shrugged with one shoulder. "Clive."

"And who's playing... Bruster? There is nothing attractive about the name Bruster." Miles fanned the script back out in his hand.

"Just some guy. I think he works at the grocery store down on Lincoln? He's a little younger than us." Phoenix stroked one hand along Miles' knee. "Don't worry. I only have to kiss him once at the end of the show, and it's not him I'm thinking of when I do it."

Miles froze. "You've been kissing someone else?"

"It's for a play." Phoenix smiled. "Are you free the night after tomorrow? You can come watch the rehearsal and tell me what you think."

"If I have the time, I might," Miles said offhandedly. "If I finish up the case I need to research, that is."

Phoenix laughed. "I think you might have fun. I'm supposed to get fitted for my costume that night." He nudged Miles. "It's a pretty nice suit."

"I told you 'maybe'." But Miles knew he would be there without fail.

* * *

The rehearsal space seemed to be an old classroom. Worn pieces of tape on the floor marked the approximate dimensions of the stage against the far wall. Chairs were pushed against either side of the door and only two were left empty when Phoenix finally pulled Miles through the door. Miles was pulled down to sit, scowling the whole while, and Phoenix slid in next to him. Introductions were made and Miles was as pleasant as he felt himself able, but he was quite happy when an older man started calling for people to take their places. Phoenix gave his knee a squeeze as he stood up and made his way to one of the the stage area with another man. He hadn't bothered with the script. The scene started and Miles found himself drawn in again, despite realizing after only a moment that the attractive man standing next to Phoenix must be the one who would get getting kissed later. 

Still, Miles felt himself drawn into it all almost against his will again. Phoenix was always a bit of a goofball in court, but here... Here he was charismatic. Every word that fell from his lips had Miles questioning anew who this man was because this was a side of him that he didn't recognize at all. And when the scenes were over, it was like a spell was broken. A kiss had happened, but it hadn't bothered him at the time because it didn't seem like it had even been Phoenic who had been kissing someone, but the character himself. And then Phoenix was nudging him to a standing position and gesturing out of the room. "C'mon, costume fitting!"

Miles was happy to stand back and watch as Phoenix talked with the costume designer and eventually stripped down to his boxers and tried on the dark pinstriped suit set aside for him. The costume designer walked around him, checking the fit, and then made Phoenix stand on a chair while the pants were pinned up a little to be hemmed. Phoenix turned to him, his upper body twisted almost comically, and said, "Well? Do you like it?"

"Of course I do," Miles said. "It's a far better cut for you than what you normally wear and that tie is a better width for you, as well. I might suggest tying it in a half-Windsor instead, but that would be the only thing I would change."

"You just like it when someone else dresses me. I'm not sure what that says about us." Phoenix straightened again and smoothed down the lapels of the suit.

Miles let his eyes wander over each line of the suit, tracing down and across Phoenix's back and legs, but let his mind wander elsewhere. "Where did you learn to act?" 

Phoenix shrugged. "College? I took some classes."

"You're very good." Miles buffed his nails against his jacket, the compliment resting uneasily on his lips.

"Am I?" Phoenix turned back over his other shoulder and smiled lazily. "Thank you."

Miles nodded and turned to look around the room. He was standing near a piece of equipment that he couldn't identify, surrounded by tiny scraps of fabric and endless lengths of string. On a table beside him were two sewing machines. An iron was set up against a wall. The rest of the room was a giant closet of sorts. A ladder was set up to allow access to an upper rack of clothing that hung above a lower rack that hung above boxes upon boxes of shoes. A wardrobe against one wall overflowed with accessories. And Phoenix took it all in stride and even seemed comfortable here. Miles wasn't comfortable having pins aimed anywhere near him unless he was at his own tailor's shop, and certainly couldn't abide by the dozens of colors of detritus on the floor that seemed to follow his shoes as he moved.

"C'mon. I want to show you something." Miles looked up to see Phoenix back in the clothes he'd come in. He followed him, grateful to be leaving the technicolor scrap box, but felt himself wanting to ask so many more questions.

He didn't speak up until Phoenix pulled him into a darkened space. "What are we- Oh." The stage. The auditorium was pitch dark, but there were a few lights illuminating the sets that were in progress. "It's very nice, I suppose."

Phoenix kissed his neck. Miles stiffened. "What are you doing?"

"It's romantic in here, isn't it? The dark, the silence-"

"The paint fumes." But Miles let himself be pushed down into one of the plush seats. Phoenix was quick to lean one knee in to slide it between Miles' own, though his other stayed pushed back awkwardly. "We can do this even better at home," Miles said, but let his fingers trail under the edge of Phoenix's shirt anyway.

"Yeah, but I wanted to make out with you in a dark theatre." Phoenix laughed as he stroked back Miles' hair. "It isn't very comfortable, is it?"

"No."

Phoenix kissed him again and pulled away. "Then let's go home." And they did.

* * *

Miles didn't attend the next rehearsal, but he found himself pulled along to the one after that and the next one beyond that as well. After that night, Miles said on the way home, his hands tight on the steering wheel, "You could have done that for a living."

"Done what?"

His fingers clenched tighter. "You could have been an actor."

Phoenix was silent for a long moment. "I probably could have been a lot of things."

"Yet you chose to be a laughingstock of the law."

"I chose to put myself in your line of fire." Phoenix's voice was strained. "I wasn't forced into anything. I chose."

"When you were disbarred, you could have-"

"Could have what? Pursued a dream? I did." Phoenix shifted in his seat. "When that happened, I had to reevaluate my life. I realized which things were important. More than wanting to go back to where I was in college, I wanted to go back to law. It's nice to have them both in my life right now, sure, but if I had to give one up, it would be the acting quick as a flash."

"And you are quite certain that you don't regret what you did for me?"

Phoenix's shoulders sagged and he reached out to trace along Miles' jawline. "Never."

* * *

It was opening night and Miles couldn't understand how Phoenix wasn't a giant bundle of nerves. Miles certainly was. His fingers couldn't seem to unclench around the program in his hand, no matter how much Gumshoe patted him on the shoulder or one of the various Fey women told him to ease up or Larry laughed like the idiot he was.

The lights flickered and dimmed and everyone took their seats. Miles attempted to get comfortable despite Gumshoe's shoulder taking up far more of his personal space than he was comfortable with. But as soon as Phoenix was on the stage, the rest of the world faded away again. Miles was drawn inexorably into the story and found himself rooting for Clive and his blushing boyfriend.

Throughout the show, Miles found his interest flagging only when Phoenix wasn't on stage. In the final scene when he and his "Bonnie" were gunned down, he felt his own handkerchief pulled from his pocket and pressed into his hand by Gumshoe. When Miles turned to scowl at him, he felt the drip of a tear down his face and pressed the handkerchief to his eyes quickly.

The show ended with a drop of the curtain and Miles was on his feet before anyone else for the ovation. He had to pause as the curtain rose again to tuck his handkerchief away, but brought his hands back together as soon as possible, his palms aching with the effort by the time Phoenix took his final bow and the curtain lowered once more.

The rest of the night seemed to fly by as they were able to greet the cast in the lobby and mill around for a while. Miles chose to wait in his car for Phoenix once that had finished and he could make his excuses to their friends.

The night was cooler than he had anticipated, but he sat with the window down anyway, breathing in the night air and looking out across the dark sky that seemed so removed from the bright streetlights and buildings around him. When Phoenix finally joined him, Miles felt calmed. "Trucy is coming into town next weekend to see the show, right?"

Phoenix smiled widely as he put on his seatbelt. "Yup!"

"You were wonderful. Truly wonderful." Miles rolled up the window as he started the car. "Thank you."

"F-for what?" Phoenix cocked his head to one side.

Miles stopped himself before putting the car into drive and reached out, instead, to grab Phoenix's hand. "For choosing me."


End file.
